Chapter 98: Husband

Chapter 98: Husband

"What are you looking at, Fu?" the person speaking with Fu Zhichen asked.

"Nothing."

The smile at the corner of Fu Zhichen's lips hadn't yet faded. Wen's father felt a rush of joy, thinking the conversation had gone well with Fu Zhichen. He quickly waved to the other side and called over another person.

"Mr. Fu, this is my son. He just returned from studying abroad and will gradually take over my position. I hope you'll look after him in business dealings."

As per workplace etiquette, the first thing the newcomer did was shake hands with Fu Zhichen.

"Hello, I'm Wen Zhong."

Fu Zhichen extended his hand. "Fu Zhichen."

Wen's father signaled Wen Zhong with a glance. Wen Zhong, with a refined smile, personally poured a glass of red wine for Fu Zhichen from a nearby table and then one for himself.

"Mr. Fu, here's to you."

Wen's father stood by, smiling as he watched the two. He clinked his glass against Fu's first, then added, "Mr. Fu, I toast to you."

The wine glass was already held out to Fu Zhichen. Given his own age, he still showed respect to elders, so he took it.

Fu Zhichen was a modest, capable businessman who never flaunted his tactics or wealth. He was used to such calculated gestures of goodwill.

"You're too kind. I should be toasting you, President Wen."

Wen's father waved his hand, laughing.

Wen Zhong took the chance to speak. "I've heard my father mention your name often while overseas. Meeting you today, I can see you're really impressive."

"I heard you recently landed the development project in the eastern part of the city. Congratulations on that."

Wen's father let out a sigh, looking at the two.

"Our Wen family also bid on it, but in the end, we couldn't compete with Fu's..."

...

Not far away, Song Jiang stopped his roughhousing with Chu Yan. Looking up, he saw Fu Zhichen shaking hands with Wen Zhong and felt a twinge of suspicion.

Had the CEO's obsession with cleanliness been cured?

Not only was he shaking hands, but he also had a barely-there smile on his face. Had he found a kindred spirit?

Something was off.

Song Jiang rested his head on his hand, his gaze fixed on the man with glasses standing before Fu Zhichen.

The man's face gave off a sense of calm detachment, with soft, harmonious features. His smile toward Fu Zhichen was warm and sincere.

The glasses on his nose gave him a scholarly air.

Who could dislike such a cultured, refined person?

And he seemed to be getting along well with Fu Zhichen, likely sharing common interests—someone Fu could have good conversations with in the future.

The roughhousing stopped. Chu Yan, not knowing what Song Jiang was thinking, stood beside him, chattering away.

"Little steward, I got you a small cake on purpose. Try this new flavor."

"Let me tell you, Tian Tian poached this pastry chef from abroad. I heard this family used to make pastries for Empress Dowager Cixi."

"I tried one before you got here. The texture is out of this world—I guarantee you'll want more!"

After a long silence with no answer, Chu Yan tilted his head to look at Song Jiang and nudged him with his elbow.

"Little steward?"

"Little steward?"

Still no reply. Chu Yan followed Song Jiang's gaze.

After a dozen seconds, certain Song Jiang hadn't moved, he said calmly, "Checking out your husband?"

Song Jiang was speechless.

"Missing him?"

"If you miss him, I'll walk you over there. It's ridiculous—he's chatting so happily with another man."

Song Jiang was speechless.

Chu Yan grabbed Song Jiang's arm and stepped forward. "Come on, I'll take you over."

One "husband" after another—what's the point of saying it like that?

That's what Song Jiang thought to himself.

But the word "husband" made his heart race uncontrollably, his earlobes turning as red as blood.

Was that a term you could just toss around?

His body's instinctive reaction gave him away.

When Song Jiang came back to his senses, Chu Yan was already dragging him forward. Unable to take it anymore, he balled his fist and punched Chu Yan in the chest. "Shut up!"

With a mix of embarrassment and anger, he added, "You don't have a husband yourself, so why are you calling him that so affectionately?"

What Song Jiang meant was that Chu Yan wasn't in a relationship and didn't have a husband—so why was he so natural about it?

But Chu Yan heard it as Song Jiang saying, "That's my husband—why are you calling him that? I'm jealous!"

Chu Yan held his chest where he'd been hit, not angry but secretly excited. So they were both secretly crushing on each other—they just needed someone to make the first move!

"Alright, I get it. I totally get it."

Chu Yan had an expression that said he understood it all.

"My brother's out there hitting on someone. You're not going over now to save him face—you're waiting to deal with him behind closed doors at home, right?"

Chu Yan's train of thought was bizarre. How could he dare to "deal with" the CEO? Song Jiang grabbed a random cake and stuffed it into Chu Yan's mouth.

"If it's good, have two!"

With Chu Yan's mouth stuffed, the noise around him quieted down. Song Jiang patted his own face, then grabbed a cold drink from the table and downed it in one gulp.

He tried to ease his abnormally red cheeks by eating cake.

Song Jiang was lost in thought, even while eating cake, still somewhat unsettled.

After two cakes, he finally spoke with feigned nonchalance.

“Brother Chu, what do you think of the man talking to President Fu?”

Chu Yan took Song Jiang's cake-stuffing as the little housekeeper's shy reaction to having his thoughts guessed.

Hearing this, Chu Yan, already stuffing another cake into his mouth, squinted and mumbled two words.

“...not...so good...”

Song Jiang's mind automatically pieced together the mumbled words and he voiced the thought in his head, “Not so good?”

He muttered to himself, “I think so too.”

As he spoke, Song Jiang never took his eyes off Fu Zhichen, watching the two men's every move.

“That man pushes his glasses every few sentences. It looks weird.”

Chu Yan chimed in, “Tell me about it. There was a guy like that who sat behind me in school. Wore glasses, acted like a big shot, always tattling to the teacher, claiming I was blocking his view of the blackboard.”

“That idiot read comic books in class every day, and claimed he needed to see the blackboard. What was he even pretending all day?”

“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm,” Song Jiang nodded like a pecking chicken to show agreement.

While the two were intently watching Fu Zhichen's area, little did they know that Tian Tian was already standing on the second floor of the villa.

*

Sorry, sorry, I was in a rush writing yesterday; some parts of the story weren't written well, so I've added a bit more.

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